by M. S. Force
It’s dark now, and the wind is howling outside. The delivery guy told Flynn there’s more than eight inches of snow already on the ground and more coming overnight.
“Now,” Flynn says after taking a drink from his glass of wine, “we hammer out a contract.”
“Like a real contract?”
“Yep. Hold that thought.” He gets up and crosses the room to his office.
I watch him go, enjoying the view of him wearing only formfitting boxer briefs and nothing else. He’s magnificent and all mine. Though I’m still reeling from everything that happened earlier, I’m no longer agonizing over what will become of us. We’re in this together, and that’s all that matters.
Flynn returns, a packet of papers in hand. “The contract between you and me is not legal, but it’s a binding agreement for our relationship that outlines our hard and soft limits—in other words, things you absolutely won’t do as well as things that make you nervous but you’d be willing to try. It’s all negotiated in advance so there can be no misunderstandings during a scene.”
“Could I ask a question?”
“Always.”
This one requires some liquid courage, so I take a big sip of wine. “Will this… arrangement… involve other people?”
“No.”
“Just no? No discussion? Haven’t you done that before?”
“Yes,” he says tightly. “I’ve done it, but there’s no fucking way I’m sharing you with anyone. The thought of another man touching you… That’s a hard limit for me.”
“Okay…” I’m moved by his fiercely protective reaction, but that doesn’t mean I’m not interested in pushing his buttons a little. “What about another woman?”
His eyes widen, and he starts to say something that dies on his lips. “Sorry, I’m just a little startled that you asked that.”
I begin to laugh and can’t seem to stop. “After everything you said to me today, that shocks you?”
“Coming from you, yes.”
“I’m sorry. Have I shattered your illusions about your sweet, innocent wife?”
“I’m discovering my sweet, innocent wife may not be as innocent as I thought she was.”
“Oh, she is, trust me, but I’ve done my research.”
“Is that right?”
“Uh-huh. I’m wondering why all the secrecy surrounding this lifestyle. Why does it matter if people know?”
“Most people keep kinky preferences secret because society, as a whole, doesn’t understand them. Too many equate kinky with perverted, and it’s not perverted if two consenting adults are doing things that were agreed to in advance. The need for secrecy in my case and that of my partners is because that kind of judgment would hurt our careers.”
“That’s kind of sad when you think about it.”
“It’s reality,” he says with a shrug. “People fear what they don’t understand. It’s easier and cleaner to keep it private. Plus it’s none of anyone’s fucking business.”
“True.”
“Another thing that people don’t understand is it’s not all about sex. It’s much more about the emotion. When two people are fully invested in a scene, it can be the most intensely emotional experience you’ll ever have—and that’s before anyone has sex.” He cups my face and slides his thumb over my cheekbone. “That’s magnified a thousand times when you’re in a scene with someone you love.”
It’s hard to imagine our lovemaking more intense than it already is, but I take his word for the fact that there is more—much more. “What else is in that contract of yours?”
“A checklist of possibilities. But first, I want you to look at this and see what you think. Most of the time, these things are hammered out verbally. But because of who we are and what we have to lose, we do paper contracts at Quantum. Everything about this lifestyle and our agreement is based on three core beliefs—safe, sane and consensual. Everything we do will be all three of those things or it doesn’t happen.”
He hands me two pages that outline our Dominant/submissive relationship. The Club Quantum logo sits at the top of both pages.
“Who has access to the clubs?”
“The five principal partners as well as our staff and the members we’ve admitted over the years.”
“How do you keep something like this a secret in your business?”
“We are very selective about who we admit, and it costs a million dollars to join as a regular member. Everyone who’s admitted into the club would have something big to lose if they talked about us or our activities or the club. We have people locked in custody battles, people with huge, prominent jobs outside the entertainment business, people with families who have no idea they’re in the lifestyle.”
“Does your family know?”
“No.”
“Does Addie know?”
“Nope.”
“She must suspect something after working so closely with you for so long.”
“Not to be flippant about our recent troubles, but you married me, slept with me, made love with me, spent weeks with me and only me, and you didn’t know.”
“True, but then again, I didn’t even know such a thing existed until I found Hayden’s room.”
“I’m not sure that Addie knows it exists either.”
“Is this why Hayden doesn’t pursue his feelings for her?”
“Yes.”
“So many things make sense in this new context.”
“And yet I still feel I have to say again—Hayden’s business is his and his alone. Until you, I have never told another living soul about his involvement in the lifestyle, just as I’m confident he’s never told anyone about mine.”
“I’m honored to be trusted with all of this, Flynn. I swear to you again that I will never speak of it to anyone. You have my word on that.”
“Even if our marriage disintegrates into a Hollywood disaster?” he asks with a wry grin that doesn’t quite touch his eyes. I know he has no desire to discuss the possible demise of our marriage, but he’s wise to be concerned nonetheless.
“Even then.”
He takes my hand and brings it to his lips. “Thank you for that, for everything today, for giving me the chance to explain, to bring you all the way into my life. I’m so full of gratitude where you’re concerned.”
“It’s odd because I felt so close to you before this, but now… It’s even more so than it was before. Thank you for letting me the rest of the way into your world, even though you didn’t want to.”
“It’s not that I didn’t want to. It was my misguided attempt to protect you, which backfired badly and undermined everything we’ve built together.”
I squeeze his hand, which is still wrapped around mine. “This isn’t something I would’ve thought I wanted, but listening to you describe it to me…” I fan my face, making him laugh. “I don’t know if I can do all of it, but I’m definitely curious and interested.”
“That’s an important first step. Now finish your dinner and read the contract.”
“Yes, Sir.”
My reply makes his eyes get very dark, and the connection between us in that moment is absolutely incendiary.
“Read,” he says in a low growl.
I smile at him before I return my attention to the documents.
The contract begins by outlining the timeframe for our agreement, which has been left blank. It goes on to cover a number of safety-related items, such as the hard and soft limits he’s already mentioned and the use of what’s referred to as a traffic-light system in which green means go, yellow means the sub is approaching his or her limits, and red means everything needs to stop right now. It covers the importance of open, honest communication between the Dom and the sub, and the proper form of address between a sub and the Dom.
Next is the availability of the sub, which is pretty much all the time, except for when the sub is at work or sleeping or otherwise engaged in his or her own activities. Then I read a line that says the terms of the agreement are
enforceable by the Dom whether the couple is at home or in public.
I glance up at Flynn, who is watching me intently. “What?” he asks.
“At home or in public?”
He laughs, which softens his entire demeanor. “That’s where you get lucky. Because of who I am to the rest of the world, I won’t make you blow me in the men’s room at LaGuardia.”
“Thank goodness for small favors.”
“I believe you once said there’s nothing small about it.”
His comment cracks me up. I love that we’re laughing our way through what could’ve been a tense, uncomfortable conversation. It’s anything but that. With every clause and sentence I read in the agreement, I feel closer to him, to understanding the real him and what makes him tick. I want to know that. I want to know everything about him. “So define public for me, then. What does that mean for us?”
“Possibly, down the road, when you’re ready and I feel confident that you can handle it, we’d do a scene at the club.”
“In front of people we know.”
“Yes.” He eyes me with his head tipped in inquiry. “What do you think of that?”
“I-I don’t know if I can do that.”
“Okay.”
“That’s it? Just okay?”
“We’ll put public scenes on your soft limits list for now, and we can revisit it later. I have no intention of plunging you into this thing all at once, Nat. We’re going to ease you in and take it one step at a time. At first it will just be us, experimenting, playing, trying new things in private. A public scene at the club would only happen much later, if or when we both decide it’s time.”
“What if I never get there?”
“Then you never get there, and I’ll still love you with all my heart and be thankful every day that you’re my wife as well as my sexual submissive.”
“Could I… could we… maybe sometime… go to the club? Together?”
“That could be arranged.”
“I’d love to see it and to better understand what goes on there.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.”
His assurances help me relax some as I read about the exchange of respect between the parties as well as the expectations and rights of the Dom. These include the right to discipline his sub at any time but makes assurances that the Dom will never do anything that could be considered unsafe or that would leave permanent marks on the body of the submissive or create injuries that require medical intervention.
“How does punishment work?”
“Well, there are a variety of different ways that can be approached. It can be a spanking that’s intended to hurt more than arouse. I can make you stand naked in a corner for a period of time during which you’re expected to think about whatever behavior brought on the punishment in the first place, and then we’ll talk about it afterward. Sometimes it might be both those things together—corner time followed by a spanking. There are Doms who bring in canes and whips and all sorts of other implements to discipline their subs, but I’m not really into inflicting that level of pain. The worst you’d get from me is a flogging for really serious offenses.”
“There were whips in your playroom, or at least they looked like whips to me.”
“Those belong to a friend.”
“Oh.” I swallow hard at the thought of being whipped. “And what would count as a really serious offense?”
“Disrespecting your Dom, talking back, refusing to do what you’re told, failing to please me in some way.” He pauses before he says, “I can see your wheels spinning. What’re you thinking?”
“I can’t imagine what it would be like to be spanked for talking back to you.”
“This is only during sex. Feel free to sass me all you want the rest of the time. When we’re in there,” he says, pointing to the bedroom, “I’m in charge, and you do what you’re told or face the consequences. That’s how this works. By entering into this agreement, you’re ceding the power over your sexual satisfaction and personal well-being to me, which means you have to do what I tell you and trust me to know what you need. That’s how I do my job and ensure your safety—and your satisfaction.”
I think that over from every angle and can see where it makes sense. “What if…” I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Whatever you’re thinking, just say it. Put it out there and let’s talk about it. I don’t want you to have any worries or concerns about how this will work.”
“What if I’d come back, after learning everything I now know about you, and I just wasn’t interested in this? What would’ve happened then?”
“If that had been the case, I would’ve been sad to not get the chance to explore this world with you, but we would’ve gone on like before only with no secrets left between us.”
“How long would you have been satisfied with that?”
“For the rest of my life. I had already decided I could live without the lifestyle before I could live without you.” With his hands on my shoulders, he looks directly into my eyes. “If what you’re asking me is if I’d turn to someone else to fulfill these needs, the answer is an emphatic no. I will never cheat on you, Nat. Ever. I’ve been down that road, and I never hated myself more than when I stooped to Valerie’s level by giving her a taste of her own medicine. I will never do that again, especially not to you. If I’m not having sex—of whatever kind—with you, I’m not having it with anyone else either. I swear to you. If you never believe another thing I tell you, that one you can take to the bank.”
“I do believe you, because you already told me, a long time ago, how that incident made you feel.”
“It sucked. It was the lowest point in my life, or it was until you left me yesterday.”
“I had to do that, Flynn. I couldn’t think this through and be with you, too.”
“I know, but let me ask you something…”
“Anything.”
“If I hadn’t been here when you arrived, were you going to call me?”
Nodding, I say, “I would’ve called you today. I was as messed up without you as you were without me.”
He puts his arms around me, and we hold each other for a long time. “Can we promise each other to never again walk away when the going gets tough? That we’ll stay together and work it out no matter what it is?”
“I’ll make that promise.”
“So will I.”
Pulling back, he kisses me, framing my face with his big hands and caressing my cheeks with his thumbs. He makes me feel so cared for and loved.
Looking sleepy-faced, Fluff comes strolling out of the bedroom and right over to my stool, jumping up on her hind legs to try to reach me.
“I bet someone needs to go out to pee,” Flynn says, getting up from his stool. “I’ll get someone to take her out, since neither of us can do it without being surrounded.”
“How long do you think that’ll last?”
“I don’t know. The school sort of blindsided us with the announcement they made about offering your job back. We think they were trying to save some face with the public. Liza is dealing with it. We need to talk about that, too. And I want to hear everything about your visit with Candace. I started to ask you earlier, but we got sidetracked.”
“Sidetracked,” I say with a laugh. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
He leans in to kiss me again. “It’s more like we got back on track.” Nodding to the contract, he says, “Keep reading. Take notes. We’ll be back.” After a trip to the bedroom to put on jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt, Flynn whistles for Fluff, who goes running to him when she hears him pick up her leash.
I have to laugh at how she’s taken to him when at first it didn’t seem like she’d ever let him near me without having to listen to her snarl and growl. After the elevator comes to collect them, I refill my wineglass and return to my assigned reading.
The next section is on the roles and responsibilities of the submissive, which includes words that raise my h
ackles, including “obey,” “serve” and “property” of her master. Yikes. I also stop short at the phrase that requires the submissive to ask permission before she touches her Dominant.
“That’ll have to go,” I say out loud. It is then that I realize I have power in this arrangement, too. I have the power to say no at any time. I have the power to negotiate the terms that suit me. This is what Flynn meant by the term “exchange of power.”
Finally, the contract spells out the Dominant’s requirements for his submissive in the areas of health, hygiene, birth control and masturbation, which is not allowed without permission from the Dom. That’s not a problem for me, because I’ve never indulged in self-pleasure. Until I met Flynn, I avoided sex in all its many forms. Now I find myself craving the connection with him as well as the searing pleasure I always experience in his arms. I’ve gone from never having had an orgasm in my life before a month ago, to having more than I can count with him. As my sexual awakening is still quite new, I can’t yet imagine wanting that without him there with me.
An addendum includes an exhaustive list of limits. The instructions at the top tell me to label each as a hard or soft limit and include precise definitions of the two terms that match what Flynn told me earlier. Someone, I assume it’s Flynn, has drawn a line through many of the choices, and after reading them, I can see why. Some of these things are downright disgusting to me, and apparently to Flynn, too.
Of the ones he’s left open for discussion, I stop at blindfolding and gagging. I don’t know if I could handle being blindfolded after having been assaulted. The thought of that makes me queasy and anxious, so I mark it as a hard limit. Next to gagging, I mark a question—how will I use a safe word if I am gagged?
Spanking is a soft limit, as is anal play. I never would’ve believed I’d like that, but Flynn has already shown me otherwise. The thought of actual anal sex is a little less certain because I’m not at all convinced it would even be possible, but again, he has assured me otherwise. I mark that a soft limit as well. I’m willing to try it.
I discover there’s a bevy of varieties when it comes to bondage. I mark light bondage and scarf play as soft limits and the rest as hard limits.